


you go to my head

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Daisy's birthday, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Phil Coulson: Human Desaster, Phil is such a loser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 09:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12554488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: It's her birthday, and he's taking her out for breakfast, because Daisy has never had breakfast like that. Not with caviar, not with profiteroles, not with a silky red napkin on her lap, and not with champagne (so much champagne).





	you go to my head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notcaycepollard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/gifts).



> A silly little something for notcaycepollard's birthday! ♥  
> Hope you like this clumsily written idekwhatitis :)

It's her birthday, and he's taking her out for breakfast, because Daisy has never had breakfast like that. Not with caviar, not with profiteroles, not with a silky red napkin on her lap, and not with champagne (so much champagne). It's her birthday, and they are day drunk at the hotel's restaurant, Daisy obviously enjoying all of this very much, eating the vanilla ice cream with hot red berries like it's the best thing in the world, and like she's actually trying to seduce Coulson. Maybe she is. Maybe he's just had too much champagne to be able to tell. Anyway, his cheeks feel hot.

Daisy smiles her way through all of it, her eyes beaming like she keeps saying 'thank you'. And to be honest, he's so glad to see her like this. And he's also a lost cause. Especially with the expensive champagne apparently refilling itself when he isn't looking (to be fair, he's spent most of this whole thing looking at Daisy). He may not be drunk technically, okay, he has some sort of self-control, but he's definitely tipsy. Otherwise he wouldn't feel this mushy on the inside when Daisy smiles at him. Otherwise his pants wouldn't feel a little tight every now and then when Daisy accidentally touches his knee with hers. As she's licking the ice cream spoon.

He almost pulls down the tablecloth, though, when he gets up as they're leaving, and okay, maybe he's a bit drunker than he thought. Daisy suggests a cocktail at the bar before they return. It's past noon, and it's her birthday, after all, how could he say no, he's such an idiot. She chooses one of the most colourful concoctions on the list, but to be honest, he can't even tell anymore what it really taste like, other than pretty sweet. He's quite sure that's because of the way she's looking at him, like he's doing her an absurdly huge favour, taking her out on her birthday like that. It stings a bit, thinking that it is this easy to make Daisy happy. Especially since she deserves it, obviously she deserves it.

They're about to leave the hotel, and Coulson is trying to feign stability in his legs (he's fine, honestly, even if he's had a close call with with one of the columns in the lounge), but Daisy suddenly seems to have other plans. With a smirk, and with that sort of determination on her face that reminds Coulson very clearly where things are located inside his pants, she floats over to the reception desk. He can't hear what she's saying but the guy behind the counter seems very charmed, and Coulson's considering walking over there, just to check. Then again, the wall next to the luggage room has been doing wonders in terms of counter-spinning measures.

Sooner than he realizes, Daisy's back, triumphantly showing him a golden card, and he's wondering if it's a credit card, and where she's gotten it from, when she takes him by the hand to pull him across the lounge and straight into the elevator. Twelfth floor, she tells the lift-girl, and as it begins to dawn on him what she's up to, he realizes that Daisy's standing too close. Far too close, to be precise, her legs are touching his, and somehow, her hand has found its way up his back, up under his suit jacket. No wonder he's still feeling too hot. 

He's about to say something when she moves even closer, her hand moving downward, her lips approaching his. He can feel his back sweating, and Daisy makes eye contact for a moment, about an inch away from kissing him, and he can't help it, he gives her the tiniest nod, too shy, too goddamn incredulous to do anything else. She kisses him, holy shit she is kissing him, the world is spinning again, and she's not fooling around, this is a straight-up French kiss (a French kiss tasting of vanilla and a hint of ridiculously expensive champagne). He doesn't know what to do, brings his arms up to hold her, but then again, it's not like Daisy needs any assistance, it's not like he can provide any navigation at the moment anyway, he's too stunned. Also, far too turned on, so he's glad Daisy's standing in front of him.

The lift-girl's smirk as they step out of the elevator is priceless, and he can't stop himself from blushing like a teenager. Daisy pulls him along, showing him to the room she booked, but they don't make it to the door because she gently pushes him against the wall of the corridor first, pushes up against him. Coulson thinks he literally won't make it to the room if she's going to keep straddling him against the wall like that, if her tongue is going to keep doing these things. He's panting by now, trying to cling on to some semblance of control, but the truth is, this is like some crazy, feverish dream, one of those where you sincerely wish not to wake up any time soon. 

He realizes he's been saying her name, or rather moaning it, and that's probably why Daisy has mercy on him and finally pulls him into the room, lets him finally push her onto the bed and push up her dress. The last thought he manages to grasp before joining her on the mattress (while smiling like a literal idiot) tells him that for some weird reason, she's been looking at him like ... like she actually loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! :)
> 
> _You go to my head_ is a Coots/Gillespie jazz song.


End file.
